


Loose Lips and Sinking Ships

by Darwig3



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Trigger warning: mentions of domestic abuse, klaine AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8304601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darwig3/pseuds/Darwig3
Summary: "Kurt’s chin rested on his shoulder, his scent creating a cloud of hope around him. Kurt was taller, and broader, and more muscular than he remembered. Blaine had no idea how something that felt so foreign could feel like he was coming home."
It's been over a decade since Blaine last saw Kurt. But when Blaine is finally able to get him and his son out of their abusive household he finds himself out of options. He calls Kurt, and by some miracle, Kurt picks up.





	1. Beautiful Boy

The train arrived with a gust of wind and a screeching halt, forcefully snapping Blaine from his mental vacancy. He grabbed the hand of the boy beside him and swung his messenger bag over his shoulder, he made sure the boy’s own bag was still on his small shoulders before giving him a sad smile; the boy returned it, trying too hard to look hopeful. Entering the train, he found a short row of empty seats at the back of the compartment, which he quickly claimed. He fashioned a pillow from his sweater and motioned for the boy to lie down.  
  
“Daddy?” The boy asked, as the train lurched from the station.  
  
“Yeah, bud?”  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“I don’t know yet,” Blaine answered truthfully. “I’ll find us somewhere to stay,” he looked at his son’s eyes, tired with forced determination, and his mouth that was trying so hard not to frown. He was trying to be strong, six years old and he felt like he needed to be strong for Blaine, for his daddy, who he’d seen be pushed around one too many times. “And we’ll never go back. I promise you that.”  
  
The boy’s mouth was set in a line, and his eyelids were growing heavier even as he nodded to his father. Blaine felt his own eyes closing, but he knew his mind would try to keep him as alert as possible. He stroked a hand through his son’s dark and wild curls and told him to sleep.  
  
“Daddy?” He asked, his voice low and slow, it sounded so innocent and Blaine felt a small smile pull on to his lips at the thought.  
  
“Yes, Ben?”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Blaine gasped shallowly around the lump in his throat, a stinging in his eyes led silent tears to make tracks down his cheeks. He smiled, for the first time in weeks he smiled, and he meant it. He leaned down to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I love you too, Bennett,” he said into his hair, which still smelled like the raspberry flavored shampoo he’d used when he’d given him a bath the night before.  
  
…  
“I know it’s kinda putting a lot of pressure on you…no I know… Ben is only a few years younger, I’m sure they’ll get along…no it’s…really it’s fine, I understand…call me if you change your mind…ok…you too…bye.”  
  
Blaine suffocated the stupid end button under his thumb. A message box popped up on his phone, letting him know he had 10% battery left. Blaine pulled out his messenger bag from under the seat and riffled through the few contents he’d managed to grab for himself on the way out. Of course his phone charger wasn’t in there. He’d buy a new one once they got off the train, but for now he continued to go through his contact list.  
  
Thinking it over, wasting money on train tickets to Philly before he knew where they were going to end up was a pretty terrible idea. He had to get out of there though. It felt like the skyscrapers were all crumbling, waiting to suffocate him at any moment. The exhaust from the subways and taxis was choking him. Every corner he turned, every street sign held memories of him. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. It was all too much right then. The city felt too big, he didn’t want to go back if he could help it, but he also didn’t have the money to get much further. So he called everyone he could think of. If it were just him he’d stay in shelters but he couldn’t do that to Ben. So he called everyone that lived in the city first, all but one anyway. With no luck he was forced to move from his New York list, though he had no clue how he’d get much further if anyone was willing to take them in for a while. His wallet only had about $200 in it, and he knew that Sebastian would have claimed his card as stolen by now.  
  
He tried Wes first, the last time they had talked Wes was moving into a new house, somewhere in Mount Vernon. No answer. Next was Nick, and then Jeff. No answer from Jeff, Nick on the other hand was in the middle of his own family crisis, his in-laws were in town. David. No answer. He called every Warbler he had the number of, some answered but those who did were a waste of battery. None of them could offer them any help. As a last resort he started searching for a friendly giant’s number in his contact list, but his phone gave out and died before Finn could answer, the screen turning black and hopeless.  
  
“Shit.” He tossed his phone into his backpack with a huff. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the train, the way it moved so smoothly along the whole ride. There were no bumps in the tracks; even the turns were taken smoothly, such a calm journey.  
  
He reached for his left ring finger to fidget with the wedding band that had lived there for just over 7 years, but his fingers just found skin. He looked down in a panic, though he knew subconsciously it wasn’t there it still felt like a part of him was missing.  
  
Maybe a part of him had disappeared when he’d taken off the ring and chucked at his, soon to be, ex-husband’s eye. Taking that ring off had given him the strength to get them out of there. The ring had tethered him to the time when they were happy, and in love. It gave him all the hope he felt on their wedding day, when he thought he was the happiest man alive. It leached lies into his skin, and screamed at him ‘you can be happy again, just stick it out, stick it out for Ben’. It told almost as many lies as Sebastian did.  
  
Now that it was gone he felt clear again. Everything that had once clouded him into thinking that Sebastian would come back around had disappeared from his view and he saw nothing but the truth. And like the band of skin that had been covered with the lies for so long, he had a chance to step out into the sun again. He had a chance to feel happy, and warm. He hoped he would feel human again, eventually.  
  
The conductor announced that they would be pulling into 30th Street Station in Philly, in 10 minutes. Blaine gathered all of his things, taking his cell phone from his bag and stuffing it back into his pocket. He zipped his bag back up after he made sure that everything else was accounted for. When he felt like five minutes had passed he gently shook his son’s shoulder.  
  
Ben woke slowly, his eyes blinking open a few times, adjusting to the brightness inside the train, before finally focusing on Blaine.  
  
“Did you find us a place to stay yet?” He asked around a yawn.  
  
Dread fell heavy on Blaine’s heart as explained to his son that he hadn’t been able to reach anyone who would help them out. “I will find somewhere for us,” he said, making sure that Ben was looking him in the eyes, “I promised, and Anderson’s don’t break their promises.”  
  
Ben nodded. He sat up slowly, his hair sticking out at every angle imaginable. He handed Blaine his sweater/pillow, and got his backpack on. He perched himself on the edge of the tattered train seat, ready to go.  
  
“Are we just the Anderson’s now?” he asked after a moment of radio silence between the them.  
  
“Yeah buddy, we’re just the Anderson’s now.” Father and son’s eyes met and they each offered each other knowing looks.  
  
“I like Bennett Anderson better than Bennett Anderson-Smythe. It’s a lot easier.”  
  
Blaine swallowed before saying simply, “it will be.”  
  
…  
The first thing Blaine did when they disembarked the train was buy a phone charger, and lunch for him and Ben. The little convenience store located right outside the terminal was dirty and over priced, but Blaine figured as long as they stuck to sealed foods they’d be fine. They ate their lunch while they searched for an open outlet in the bustling train station.  
  
Blaine stuck the prongs into the wall across from a train that had just come to a stop. Sighing in relief as the phone lit up in his hand, notifying him that it was charging, he slid down the wall, and Ben did the same. They sat on the slab of grimy concrete, using their bags as pillows for their backs. Blaine dragged Ben closer to try and warm him up, but it was still freezing. Blaine hated to think of how cold it would be if they were still here past dark. He pushed those thoughts away as the phone came to life in his hands, lending a small grain of hope to both of the boys.  
  
“Who are you going to call, daddy?”  
  
Blaine stared at his phone, and then at his son whose wide, innocent, blue eyes, and crooked closed mouth smile told him what he had to do. There was one person Blaine never thought he would be able to call again, but it was the same person who he knew would never let him down.  
  
Blaine felt a prick in his eyes as he scrolled down to the K’s. It had been so long since he’d called him, he hoped he still had the same number. He hoped he would answer, because Blaine honestly wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.  
  
“An old friend. He’s never let daddy down before,” but I have, I’ve let him down, “let’s hope he won’t let us down now.” He waited for the people across from their spot on the wall to unload the train that had arrived a few seconds ago before hitting the call button. He watched as the screen transformed from the contacts page, into a picture of the two of them in their Dalton blazers, only a few days before Kurt had transferred back to McKinley. A rogue tear slipped down his cheeks and landed on the corner of his lips, shocking Blaine back into that day; it was the last place Kurt had kissed him. A soft, goodbye kiss to the corner of his mouth. He wanted so much to beg for more, but it wasn’t fair, to either of them. If they had kissed as Blaine had wanted them to kiss it would have only made it that much harder when their fantasy world crumbled underneath them.  
  
Reality began to filter back through to Blaine. The sound of the phone ringing out in his ear, and steady weight of Ben against his side, the rest of the train station carrying along around them. And finally a voice that rang just as clear, and high as he remembered.  
  
“This can’t really be you,” it said.  
  
“I-I-it-“  
  
“Oh my god, it is.”  
  
“I-uh, I know Philadelphia is pretty far from Lima, but I can find a way to pay you back or something, we just really need a ride home and if you’re willing, a place to stay?” Blaine’s voice sounded foreign in his own ears. It was weak and scared, nothing like his usually strong tenor.  
  
Blaine could hear the gears grinding together in Kurt’s mind on the other side of the receiver. “Blaine, what happened?”  
  
“I’ll explain everything-“  
  
“Blaine,” he said forcefully, nearly a growl and it sent rocks into Blaine’s stomach and beads of sweat to his forehead. No, don’t be afraid, this is Kurt; he won’t hurt you. “What happened?”  
  
“I left him. We left, we got away, and now I don’t have anywhere to stay, we don’t have anywhere to stay. And I only have like $175. I’m so worried we won’t find any place to go, and I can’t bring him to a shelter, I won’t! He can’t see the shit that goes down in there, it will scar him.”  
  
“Who is he?”  
  
“Ben, my son. He’s six.”  
  
“Oh my-Blaine.”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry about all of this but please-I’ll-I’ll get a train to Columbus, could you pick us up there?”  
  
“You have a son,” he said. Blaine could tell he was shaking his head in shock on the other side of the line, because no matter how hard he tried to forget, he knew him. “You-you have a son and I didn’t know. Gosh it’s been years. Years Blaine, a decade…more? I don’t even remember at this point.”  
  
“I know,” he said. He felt a tug to his shirtsleeve and looked down to find Ben staring at him with large wondering eyes.  
  
“Is he gonna come get us, daddy?”  
  
Blaine heard a gasp in his ear, as he gave his son a noncommittal shrug.  
  
“Is that him?”  
  
“Yeah,” Blaine said, a small smile touching his lips at the thought of his son, sitting right next to him, safe and sound. He couldn’t allow that to change. Now that they were out he wasn’t going back to that ever again. He couldn’t.  
  
There was a long stretch of silence from the other line, which Blaine hoped he was interpreting correctly.  
  
“Do you have enough money to get to Columbus?”  
  
“I-maybe?”  
  
“Go find out and call me back with the answer,” he said, “I’ll pick you up at the station. You can have the spare bedroom.”  
  
…  
It was 9:34pm and frigid when they pulled into Columbus Station. Blaine’s entire body shook, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. He had wrapped Ben, who was now out cold, in his sweater, leaving him in just a thin t-shirt, his arms exposed to the dry December air. A mantra of “find warmth, find warmth, find warmth,” was all that played through his head. Kurt’s car will be warm, he reminded himself.  
  
Speaking of… he turned in circles, looking for the other man. The shaking intensified when he saw no sign of him, not a brown coif, or McQueen piece in sight. He’s not coming. Oh my god he’s not coming.  
  
“Blaine,” a voiced called out from somewhere behind him. His heart began to beat again when he saw him standing 20 feet from him, fidgeting with his keys, and shuffling from foot to foot. He looked older but, duh Blaine, you haven’t seen him in 10 years you look older too. Blaine walked toward him, his steps slowed by the extra weight on his hip of a softly snoring boy, and his trembling legs.  
  
He stopped a few feet in front of the taller man, not sure what to do. He wanted to fall into a pile at his feet and just let go. He wanted to scream and cry and let everything out. He wanted to be able to share things with him like he could have before but that wasn’t them anymore. He didn’t know what they were anymore. He didn’t even think they were considered friends. Acquaintances, brought together by a horrible situation.  
  
That’s why Blaine was so shocked when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and his son. Kurt’s chin rested on his shoulder, his scent creating a cloud of hope around him. Kurt was taller, and broader, and more muscular than he remembered. Blaine had no idea how something that felt so foreign could feel like he was coming home.  
  
“Oh my god, you’re freezing!” He exclaimed, a frown forming wrinkles around his mouth and eyes that weren’t there the last time he’d seen him. He’s whipped off his coat before Blaine could protest, and threw it over his shoulders before wrapping him in his arms again, the scent of him becoming almost too much after so long without even a whiff of it.  
  
“Thank you,” he murmured brokenly in Kurt’s ear. God he sounded pathetic, but he couldn’t find it in him to try and be strong anymore. He’d had a shield up all day, and he was finally letting it down.  
  
Kurt pulled out of their hold, and looked over Blaine’s face a few times.  
  
“Are you hurt?”  
  
Blaine winced, thinking back to that morning. He started to shake his head, the humiliation clawing at his stomach, and making his face red as a tomato. He stopped himself mid-shake.  
This was Kurt.  
  
They’d already been through stuff like this together; they’d already laid their demons out for each other to see. They used run to each other for comfort when they’d been pushed a little too hard. This was Kurt, he wouldn’t judge him for this, Blaine was sure of it. “Yeah,” he said, running to him once again. This time the comfort didn’t come from a soft kiss, or even a hug, it traveled through Kurt’s hand that caressed his cheek gently.  
  
A wet sheen covered Kurt’s eyes as they swept over the rest of his body, “Oh god, Blaine.”  
  
“Please, Kurt, don’t. I don’t want-I’m sorry but I’m exhausted.”  
  
“Sorry, of course you are! Come on, let’s get home.”  
  
Home. What a novel idea.  
  
…  
Kurt showed Blaine to the guest bedroom and watched as he set the boy down carefully, removed his black, lace-up converse, and worked the covers down from under him so he could tuck him in. He placed a soft kiss on his forehead, before switching out the light and turning to face the door, he startled when he saw Kurt there.  
  
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered. Blaine shrugged and continued out the door, closing it behind him, ending up nearly face to face with Kurt in the tiny hallway he had backed into.  
  
“I’m just jumpy right now.”  
  
“With good reason.”  
  
There was a long pause where they both stood and watched their feet as they shifted across the creaking hardwood floors. But when Kurt glanced up and saw the broken eyes of a man who at one point in his life seemed to have a never ending supply of life and hope stored away in the whisky colored irises, he couldn’t hold himself back from doing what he knew Blaine would do if the roles were reversed. Not what he would do, actually, what he had done over a decade ago?  
  
He threw his arms around him for the second time that night and he held him, and he followed Blaine as he fell to the floor and shattered like glass.  
  
…  
Blaine- who Kurt had dragged to the couch, where he’d rubbed his back gently, hyper aware of the bruises and cuts he was sure were hidden beneath the thin layer of blue cotton – had only been asleep for an hour or so when he heard a terrified scream from down the hall. It wasn’t Kurt’s scream that was for sure, as amazing as it sounds it was too high.  
  
Blaine fell off the couch, still blinded by the nightmares that haunted his unconscious; he stumbled through the unfamiliar hall, trying to guide himself with the wall.  
  
“Ben,” he said softly, cracking open the door, which he was about 80% sure led to the spare bedroom. He almost wished he had been wrong when he saw his son writhing in his sleep, whining and screaming. He felt his heart break, knowing this was his fault.  
  
“Oh Ben,” he crawled up beside him, catching his tiny fists in his hands as they punched at the air. “Ben, sweetie, wake up,” the writhing calmed slightly, but his arms were pulling, yanking, clawing, trying anything to break the hold Blaine had on them. “Ben, honey, it’s ok. It’s just me,” he said, a little louder, using the grip he had on his hands to shake him a little bit to get him to wake up. “Daddy’s here, daddy’s here,” he cooed.  
  
Teary blue eyes blinked open. “Daddy?”  
  
“I’m here buddy, I’m here.”  
  
“He was hurting you a-a-again,” Ben sobbed, as Blaine held his son tightly, rocking him gently. “I tried to tell him to stop but h-he wouldn’t listen!”  
  
“Shhh, shh, buddy it’s ok. It’s gonna be ok,”  
  
“B-But I-“  
  
“Shhh, baby, shhhhh.”  
  
“But-“  
  
“No ‘buts’, no ‘what ifs’, we have to put this behind us, okay?” Blaine wasn’t sure whom he was trying to sell it to more, Ben or himself. “ We’re safe now, we’re at my friend Kurt’s house, we’re safe here. Just try to calm down, I don’t want you to hyperventilate…good…good, slow, deep breaths.”  
  
Ben took one last gulp for air, sucking it in through his pearl like baby teeth, and letting it out slowly. His breathing evened out, and soon he was cuddled up close to Blaine, clutching the collar of his shirt with a white-knuckle grip. “Can you sing to me?” He asked in a sleep-drugged voice.  
  
“Of course I can,” Blaine shifted lower until he found a comfortable spot. He started scanning his mental library and found the perfect song with in a few seconds.  
  
“Close your eyes  
Have no fear  
The monster's gone  
He's on the run and your daddy's here 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy 

Before you go to sleep  
Say a little prayer  
Every day in every way  
It's getting better and better 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy 

Out on the ocean sailing away  
I can hardly wait  
To see you come of age  
But I guess we'll both just have to be patient  
'Cause it's a long way to go  
A hard row to hoe  
Yes it's a long way to go  
But in the meantime 

Before you cross the street  
Take my hand  
Life is what happens to you  
While you're busy making other plans 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy  
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy 

Before you go to sleep  
Say a little prayer  
Every day in every way  
It's getting better and better 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
Beautiful boy  
Darling, darling, darling  
Darling Ben.”


	2. Like Captain America

Blaine woke early the next morning, with a stabbing pain in his back, and everywhere else, for that matter. For a moment he had no clue where he was. And then he remembered. He was in Lima, in Kurt’s guest bedroom, with Ben, who was still clutching his t-shirt and snoring away. Blaine hated to move him, he looked so peaceful, he didn’t want to disturb that. But he really had to pee.  
  
He uncurled each finger, one at a time, before carefully slipping out from under the covers and off of the bed. Ben wiggled a little, getting comfortable again. He yawned, and blinked his eyes a few times before smacking his lips and rolling to his side, still asleep.  
  
The hallway was dark with no windows to let in natural light, and no light switch in sight. He found the bathroom halfway to the living room, on the left of the hallway. A clatter rang through the hall and under the door of he bathroom right before he flushed away the water and cup of coffee he had yesterday. He cleaned his hands quickly before going to investigate the noise.  
  
He stopped in the threshold of the kitchen and living room. Kurt stood in front of the gas range, prodding something in a worn skillet. He was dressed down. Wearing just a tight fitting t-shirt, and a pair of cotton pajama pants that hung low on his hips. His hair was greasy and hung down in his eyes. Blaine didn’t think he’d ever seen him so loose. He was always so put together. It was a relief almost, to know that Kurt Hummel wasn’t always so perfect.  
  
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to help me with these pancakes?” Kurt asked, sending a small smirk over his shoulder. Blaine’s ears went red, but he did as he was told and walked over to help his fellow imperfect being at the stove.  
  
The floor was freezing, he hissed in shock as soon as his barefoot transferred contact from the nice warm runner in the hallway, to the maple stained hardwood. He ran across as fast as he could, frowning as Kurt laughed at him from the stove.  
  
“The floor is like ice,” he said, finally making it onto the little area rug in front of the sink just to the left of the stove. His toes curled, rubbing one frozen foot with the other, trying to warm them up. “It wasn’t this cold in the bathroom!”  
  
“That’s because the floor in the bathroom is heated, and maybe if you invested in a pair of socks you wouldn’t have this problem,” Kurt said, a playful snark laced in his voice, and an open smile on his face as he flipped a pancake onto a plate already toppling over with a mound of delicious looking rounds of sugar and fat. Blaine’s mouth watered just thinking of all the carbs. His stomach had already gobbled up the little lunch he had, had yesterday, and was now eating its self.  
  
“You know I don’t like how they feel, they’re so constricting! They’re like-they’re like little, tiny feet prisons!”  
  
Blaine could feel his face heat up instantly as Kurt sputtered, trying to keep a straight face. “’Feet prisons’, Blaine? Really?”  
  
“Yes, ok? I hate them. An they-um- they weren’t really the first thing I was thinking of-of grabbing.”  
  
“I-“ Kurt blinked at him, a wetness already gathering at the ducts of his eyes, he looked down at the batter he’d just ladled into the pan, and watched as bubbles began to pop around the edges. “I-of course.”  
  
“Listen-“  
  
“I heard Ben screaming last night, and it all just… hit me,” he switched the burner off forcefully, shoving the pan to a cool one. He turned to face the barefooted man, and hesitantly grabbed the fist that hung rigidly at his side. When Blaine didn’t pull it from his loose grasp, Kurt started rubbing his thumb over his white knuckles. He kept up the motion, feeling his tight fist loosen, bit by bit.  
  
“I don’t think it’s even hit me yet,” he tightened his fist for a beat before opening his hand, holding it out flat, an offering, but of what, he wasn’t sure yet. Kurt snatched it in a heartbeat, threading their fingers together, not missing the pale sliver of skin on the other man’s ring finger. “Last night, that was- god, that was relief. I don’t know how else to explain it. I wasn’t scared or angry- I was just so fucking glad to be out of there, Kurt.”  
  
“I can’t even imagine,” the taller man sighed, shaking his head thoughtfully, his eyes drifting back to the abandoned pan. Blaine squeezed his hand lightly; tearing him away from the dark places his imagination was leading him to.  
  
“I don’t want you to think about it now, I don’t want to think about it right now. Let me go wake Ben up, and then we can all sit down and eat those delicious smelling pancakes, ok? Because I’m starving.”  
  
Kurt squeezed his hand back, nodding curtly, “yeah, go get your boy. I can’t wait to properly meet him.”  
  
…  
“Ben…Benny,” Blaine sing-songed quietly in his son’s ear, as he tossed the puffy down comforter off of him. Ben grumbled, turning over onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his bleary eyes.  
  
“What’sda mattah daddy?” He pushed himself into a sitting position, propping his back against the mountain of decorative pillows Blaine hadn’t bothered to remove from the bed the night before. He searched Blaine’s face for signs of distress, something he’d started not too long ago. It never failed to make Blaine’s heart stutter in his chest, too weak under the weight of his son’s unwavering worry to keep beating normally.  
  
“Nothing is the matter, buddy. I woke you up for breakfast.”  
  
“Breakfast?” Ben asked, a hint of excitement creeping through the timidness.  
  
“Yeah, buddy, Kurt cooked us pancakes!”  
  
Ben slumped back into the pillows. Bringing his knees up, he wrapped his little arms around them and hugged them to his chest.  
  
“What’s the matter, baby?” Ben picked at the jeans Blaine hadn’t changed him out of last night, his eyes trained on a loose thread near the knee.  
  
“Kurt-he’s not gonna hurt you like papa did, is he?” he asked, his voice as small as a mouse.  
  
“No,” he answered quickly, with no room for debate. “No, Kurt-and most people- aren’t like that. Most people don’t hurt others like papa did.” Blaine didn’t understand why the statement tasted so sour. It was true, most people were well rounded, they knew how to act in a society. So why couldn’t Blaine find anyone to prove him right? Why did he seem attract the monsters? Why did always find the scum of society, the ones who took their problems out on the weak, the different, the gay kids, their submissive househusbands?  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“I’m sure,” he said, images of Dave Karofsky flashed across his eyes. How many times had he comforted Kurt after we was harassed by the boy? He remembered the long weekend towards the end of his sophomore year when he’d invited Kurt to a Warbler’s party at Nick’s Grandparent’s lake house, he could still see the locker vent shaped bruises on his back, and the yellow and green hand print on his arm. They were fading then, but Blaine knew the memories would long outlast the physical evidence of his bullying. “He’s been hurt too; he knows how it feels.”  
  
Ben mulled this over for a moment, he looked curious, like he wanted to ask what Blaine meant by it, but instead he just nodded, a silent ‘ok’, as his stomach rumbled out a low wail. It was enough to pull them away from the heavy stuff and they found themselves lost in a fit of giggles.  
  
“Someone’s hungry!” Blaine said, snatching his still giggling son up, and tossing him over his shoulder.  
  
The boys stumbled down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to gain control over their small fit of laughter. Blaine flipped the boy off his shoulder onto the floor. The younger Anderson let out a small screech, his bare feet jumping a good half-foot of the floor. Laughing, Blaine caught him under the arms, swinging him onto his hip. He suppressed a wince as Ben’s body weight hit a particularly sore spot.  
  
“The floor is so cold!” Ben said, shivering slightly, as he rubbed his bare toes on Blaine’s jeans.  
  
“What is it with the Anderson’s and socks?” Kurt set a large plate of fruit next to the others that were toppling over with pancakes and bacon. “Or lack there-of, I should say.”  
  
Blaine and Ben shared a look before shrugging. “I don’t know Ben, what do you think?”  
  
“I think we’re too advanced for socks,” Ben said as serious as a heart attack.  
  
“We are the future,” Blaine agreed, with a terse nod.  
  
“Oh god,” Kurt said, shaking his head as he traveled to stand in front of them, “what am I going to do with two Blaines?”  
  
“Feed us!” They said together.  
  
“Le petit déjeuner est servi,” Kurt said, bowing, and making an exaggerated gesture towards the table.  
  
“What did he say, daddy?” Ben asked, his head cocked to the side, he looked at Kurt as if he had three heads.  
  
“Beats me, I took Italian,” Blaine said, with a shrug.  
  
…  
The breakfast went well, there were no juices spilled, or pieces of bacon dropped. They made quiet conversation, their small talk only faltering a couple of times. Blaine was surprised to notice even when there was a lull it wasn’t all that awkward. The only awkward part was that Ben still hadn’t really talked to Kurt.  
  
Other than that it was a normal breakfast. Ben fought Blaine about eating his fruit; Blaine won, only because he promised if he ate his fruit now he could have ice cream later. They both ate too many pancakes, and gorged themselves on bacon. Maybe staying with Kurt was a bad idea, because Blaine really had no self-control when it came to his cooking. He’d eat Kurt’s Macaroons for days if he could, and don’t even get him started on his eggplant rollatinis.  
  
“What do we say to Kurt, buddy?” Blaine asked after they’d rinsed their plates, and they’d found their way into the dishwasher.  
  
“Thank you for breakfast,” he mumbled from where he’d attached himself the Blaine’s leg, his words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Blaine gently detached his son, so he could get on his level. Ben was good at reading him, he knew when he was hurt, even when he didn’t have a visible bruise or cut, he knew when he was relived, on those days when he would come home from school and Sebastian had called him to say he was staying late at the office. So Blaine needed him to know that he was ok, happy even. If he saw how comfortable Blaine was in Kurt’s presence, he’d hopefully warm up to him.  
  
“I told you, Kurt’s one of the good guys, Like Captain America,” he whispered, he hoped Kurt couldn’t hear him; he didn’t want him to take any extra caution with Ben. He needed to grow from this, Blaine didn’t want him to be babied, it would just make things harder down the road. “He won’t hurt you, now stand like the big boy I know you are, and say thank you.”  
“Thank you, Kurt,” Ben said, still timid, but Blaine could already see a difference in the way he looked at him.  
  
“You are most certainly welcome, Ben,” Kurt said, joining Blaine on Ben’s level. “Hey, you know what I just realized?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t have any toys,” he answered with an exaggerated pout, obviously expecting Ben to follow suit.  
  
Blaine saw Kurt’s face scrunch in confusion when Ben just shrugged and said, “that’s alright, I brought a couple trucks, I can play with them.”  
  
Kurt blinked at Blaine, who could only offer him a raised, triangular eyebrow. Ben had always been content with what he had; Blaine had made sure he wasn’t spoiled, but he was still only six years old. “Well I was going to suggest that we could maybe take a trip to the store, maybe pick out a few things that you could play with while you stay here?”  
  
“Really?” 

  


A hot embarrassment fell heavy in Blaine’s stomach, it was enough to crawl up his neck and fill his cheeks with shame. “Kurt, I don’t-“  
  
“Shush, Blaine.”  
  
“But-“  
  
“I said shush,” Kurt said. Ben was biting his lip, trying to hold back a smile. There was a little something in his eyes though that hit Blaine hard; it was like he was just waiting for him to say ‘no’. “Don’t worry about anything for right now, I can cover it, it’s not a problem.”  
  
He hated this. He hated that he couldn’t buy his kid a toy because he had spent all of his money running from his abusive husband. And even if Sebastian hadn’t canceled his credit card he still couldn’t use it, Seb would be able to track it, to track them. How did he even let it get this far? Nothing about this was fair; Ben hadn’t done anything wrong, he shouldn’t have to grow up so quickly. It's my fault. He deserved to be a kid. It’s been so long since he’s let himself just play…  
  
“Blaine?”  
  
“Yeah… Yeah, ok. Wha-whatever makes him happy, right?” His voice trembled, and he felt as though someone was pricking his eyes with small pins, over and over again, just waiting for the bubble of composure to pop. He pulled his top lip into his mouth, trying to hide the fact that it was quivering, but he knew Kurt saw. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up and all but running to the bathroom. The same humiliation he’d thought he’d tamed earlier was back, more powerful than ever.  
  
He sat on the edge of the tub, and rested his forehead against the tiled shower wall, the coolness of it alleviating some of the nausea. He was on 43, counting back from 100 when the door creaked open slowly, and a pair of socked feet skated over the white and grey, woven floor tiles.  
  
“He’s watching reruns of Spongebob,” Kurt kneeled in front of him, a gentle hand finding a place on his knee. “I hope that’s ok,” he added after a moment of silence had come and passed, caught in the fan going above their heads and carried out through the vent.  
  
“I’m not one of those parents who shelter their kids,” he said, his voice labored as he tried to get his breaths under control. He was pathetic, hiding away in the bathroom. Running from his problems. Always running, Blaine, when are you going to stop running?  
  
He wasn’t even at mile 2 yet, and Blaine didn’t think this was going to be a simple 5k; this was a full out marathon.  
  
“Oh good, cause he’s really watching Good Fellas,” Kurt said with an easy chuckle, kneeling in front of him. Blaine’s eyes fluttered, a sweat formed at his hairline, clinging to the curls that hung loosely around his blood shot eyes. “I- I was kidding Blaine, he’s not really watching Good Fellas-“  
  
The room tipped and he fell forward, the warmth of his rapid breathing reflecting off of Kurt’s neck and smacking him in the face, the heat of it made him even more nauseous than he was before, he was sure he heard someone calling to him, the voice was scared, frantic as it tried to pull him through his haze, but he was somewhere else completely.  
  
…  
It was the ocean that woke him. Or a handful of cold water, but it felt like the ocean. He gasped and sputtered, coughing on the water that filled his lungs. He felt a hand turn into a weapon as it struck his back over and over again until he was conscious enough to get away, run away again. He was like a baby, crawling on his hands and knees, scrambling, trying to escape him. He went as far as he could, literally backed into a corner, he curled in on himself, making himself as small as possible. Less to hit, less to hurt.  
  
“Stop-Please-stopstopstop-“ a familiar mantra filled the air but he didn’t even notice that he was tearing his throat, screaming out the words. “You’re hurting me! Stop-stop hurting me! Please,” he cried desperately, “please-please-please-please-please-please,” he could hear the voice again, telling his he was going to be ok, but he couldn’t believe them. Not when he felt like this. He’d never felt like this before, like the walls were closing in on him, as the ceiling dropped, leaving just enough room for the two of them to be stuck in there. No doors, or windows or any means of escape. Just them.  
  
His eyes stayed closed, like they were cemented together. He didn’t want to see him. He shouldn’t be here…he… he wouldn’t be here… The voice was calling him again, louder this time, and he stopped screaming so that he could hear it.  
  
“It’s me, it’s Kurt,” it said, loud but cautious, “Please Blaine, please,” quieter this time, “Please, I don’t know what to do,” the voice was crumbling, and bringing the walls down with it, the ceiling starting to fall apart too.  
  
But the memories were still to fresh, and Blaine’s body was still to wary, his wounds still to fresh to trust in whatever façade he’s sure the voice had put up.  
  
But then he heard small footsteps and the creak of a door, and the voice said, “Oh, Ben, honey, your dad-“  
  
“He said you wouldn’t hurt him!”  
  
“I didn’t, I promise I didn’t!”  
  
“He promised-“  
  
“Ben, I didn’t-“  
  
A wail brought Blaine back, eyes shooting open, they searched frantically for the source, bringing his attention to the door where a young boy sat crying.  
  
“Ben.” He reached out for his son.  
  
His cries subsided for a moment to squeak out a weak, “daddy,” before they started up again, and he was clambering onto Blaine’s lap. “You said he wasn’t gonna hurt you, daddy, you said he was like Captain America!”  
  
“He didn’t hurt me baby, I promise he didn’t. He… You know last night when you had a dream about papa?”  
  
Ben sniffed, “Y-yeah, you came in and sang to me,” he said.  
  
“That’s right, well daddy just had a dream about papa too, and I was scared so I-I-“  
  
“So you were yelling cause you thought Papa was hurting you again, like I dreamed about last night?”  
  
“Yeah, buddy. And Kurt was trying to help ok? He was trying to help daddy, he wasn’t hurting me, I promise.”  
  
“You pinky promise?”  
  
Blaine held out a trembling pinky, wrapping it around Ben’s, “I pinky promise,” he said, dropping a kiss into Ben’s hair, “I promise.”


	3. Try To Be Proud

Blaine sang to Ben to sleep again, before slowly maneuvering out from under his snoring son. He felt his way along the dark hallway, finding the bathroom and switching on the light. He tore open the packaging to the spare toothbrush Kurt had given him, and began to scrub the sour taste of the last few days from the dark spaces between his teeth. He used the toilet, and scrubbed his hands with the Vanilla Bean Noel soap on the counter, before switching off the light and continuing on his journey to the couch, where the promise of sleep lay.  
  
Kurt was there, lit by the dull side table lamp. He was anxious, there was a stiffness in his back and shoulders that Blaine had seen only a few times before. One time in particular stood out in his memory. Forcing down the bile of emotion that burned his throat, he took a seat on the other end of the couch.  
  
“I’m really glad you’re here Blaine. It was really brave what you did,” Kurt said, he grabbed his left hand, from where it rested on his lap, squeezing it lightly. Blaine looked at their hands. His tan line nearly matched Kurt’s ivory hue. A scoff bubbled up from a place he hadn’t known was still there. A place he thought he’d conquered over 14 years ago with the help of a scared spy, who showed him what it was really like to have courage. Maybe the self-loathing had been building up ever since all that ended, because right now he was battling a well guarded fortress, made of spotless, reflective, black stones, and a giant moat filled with his insecurities.  
  
“It feels like a copout.”  
  
“No. No,” he shook his head avidly; his voice was like a chant, one that was all too familiar to Blaine’s ears. “Your safety- your safety, and Ben’s safety is not a copout, Blaine. In no world is what he did to you ok.”  
  
“It’s not as bad as I made it seem-“  
  
“Stop!” Blaine flinched at the sudden demand in his voice, and the strength of his stare. It shook him, and he was back in New York. Stop crying Honey, stop screaming. No! Shut it now! Stop it! Just shut up! “I don’t care if he all he did was slap you, it’s not ok, Blaine. You did the right thing.”  
  
“I-but-“  
  
“What if he had started hitting Ben, Blaine?”  
  
A sharp knife twisted Blaine’s heart, the blood from his face dripped from the open wound. “No- no I would never let it get to that.”  
  
“Then why is it ok that he hit you?”  
  
“Well Ben’s just a baby- Ben-Ben’s my baby,” His eyes fell to his lap, before squeezing them shut. He felt a hot tear roll down his cheek before falling onto the warn fabric of his favorite pair of pajama pants. “He hasn’t done anything to deserve it,” he admitted. He looked back at Kurt; his eyes were large and stormy. Waves lapped over the levies flooding onto his pallid skin. Blaine watched as the words climbed up from his chest and tore out of him.  
  
“You did not deserve this,” he said, pointing to a fading bruise on his forearm. “I don’t care what you think you did that would rationalize this, but it doesn’t, it will never make what he did to you ok. That is not an opinion, Blaine, that is a fact.”  
  
“There’s- you can’t know that.”  
  
“Yes I can. I know you, a whole decade may have passed but I know that you would never do anything bad enough to deserve this. You would have never have hit him. And to me that’s the only thing that could justify him hitting you, if it were in self-defense. Other than that, it’s completely inexcusable.”  
  
Blaine stared at his profile, his clenched jaw, and angry brow. Why did he care so much?  
  
“I’m proud of you, and you should be proud too. Please try to do that. Try to be proud that you got away from him. Don’t feel like you ran away, because someone told me once that they regretted running from their bullies. You can’t regret this Blaine. There was no way that you could have stood up to him without being seriously injured, or… You made the right choice.”  
  
They were both silent for a few moments. Tears continued to rush down both of their cheeks. There sniffles were the only sounds in the house, aside from the hum of the appliances and the ominously ticking clock.  
  
“I’ll try,” he promised, after what felt like hours, “but I think it’s going to take a while for me to see it that way. For now it just feels like I gave up.”  
  
“He’s the one that gave up, Blaine, not you.”  
  
…  
Things were awkward for the next few days. He could tell Kurt was babying him. Being gentle with him, afraid he was going to break again, which he probably would, but for now Blaine felt ok. He still wasn’t completely convinced of his innocence but he was trying to see it like Kurt did. It was hard when all he could ever think of was all the things that he’d ever done wrong that may have lead to Sebastian snapping.  
  
At least he was never alone with his thoughts for too long. Kurt worked from home, and for now Ben didn’t go to school, so there was always someone around to keep him focused on the here and now. And when Ben was napping and Kurt was at the grocery store Blaine scoured the Internet and papers for job listings. He needed something; he couldn’t stay with Kurt forever.  
  
The only problem was that he hadn’t had a job since Ben was born, and before that he’d been a flying money in Wicked and the understudy for Fiyero. He didn’t think he’d find anything like that in Lima.  
  
“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, sitting down next to him on the couch where Blaine was flipping through the local paper.  
  
“I’m looking for a job so that Ben and I can get out of your hair.”  
  
“Blaine!” Kurt chastised, ripping the paper from his hand, “don’t even worry about that right now.”  
  
“I’ve been here nearly a week already,” Blaine protested, “I hate that I can’t contribute to the rent, or food. And I have to find a place for Ben and I to live permanently so I can enroll him back in school.”  
  
“Don’t feel like you have to rush out of here,” Kurt said, “and I think you should find a job, but only if you’re ready.”  
  
“I hate when you do that,” he grumbled under his breath, taking the paper back from the blue eyed man that looked at him as if her were made of china.  
  
“Do what?” He asked, sounding slightly hurt.  
  
Blaine laid the paper down next to him on the couch before turning to face him, “Jesus Kurt, you’d think I’m recovering from some terrible disease, or getting over a death or something with the way you baby me,” he felt like crap yelling at Kurt when he was the only thing that had saved him and Ben from life on the streets, but they had always been honest with each other. “It makes me feel like shit. I want to contribute; I want to put away the dishes or do the laundry. I want to find a job and pay you rent until I can find my own place. I need to start doing normal stuff, or else I’m never going to feel normal again.”  
  
Blaine was confused to see that Kurt didn’t even look angry. He looked more thoughtful than anything. “It makes sense,” he said, nodding, his voice even and musing. It was as if Blaine hadn’t just bitched him out. “I’m sorry if I made you feel useless; I just didn’t want to make anything worse. I’ve never had to deal with something like this before.”  
  
Why couldn’t Kurt have just yelled at him back instead of being so understanding? It would have made him feel like a lot less of an asshole. “Shit… I’m sorry that I yelled at you-“  
  
“It’s ok I understand-“  
  
“No. I’m living under your roof, living off your paycheck. I shouldn’t be complaining.”  
  
“Blaine stop. We have to let each other know if the other is bothering us. It’s just a part of cohabitation.”  
  
“Yeah well, hopefully you won’t have to deal with me for much longer.”  
  
“I’m not ‘dealing’ with you, with either of you…You’re not so terrible to live with, and now that you insist on doing the dishes I’m actually quite happy that you’re here,” Kurt said, with a playful laugh and a nudge to Blaine’s ribs. Feeling like a total idiot when the hazel-eyed man winced, a pain filled hiss stinging Kurt’s ears.  
  
“Shit! Blaine, I’m so sorry!” He rushed to apologize, hands flitting around Blaine’s torso but not touching anything, afraid of inflicting more pain.  
  
“It’s ok,” he smiled, Kurt was sure he meant to look reassuring but it just looked pained. “You didn’t mean too, I know that.”  
  
“Does it still hurt that bad?” Kurt asked, eyes flitting from Blaine’s eyes, to his midsection, and back up again.  
  
“It’s not as bad as it was, but it’s not really much better.”  
  
“Do you think anything is broken?” Blaine shrugged off an answer. “Can I- can I see?”  
  
Red climbed up from Blaine’s neck, coloring his cheeks, and tinting his ears, but he reached for the hem of his shirt anyway. Kurt watched as he tugged it off, which only made Blaine’s cheeks burn hotter. He knew he wasn’t looking at him like that but once upon a time he had, and that sort of thing was kind of hard to forget.  
  
He could feel Kurt’s eyes as they traveled over his chest and abdomen. Blaine himself kept his gaze straightforward. He hadn’t looked, and he wasn’t really planning on it. He knew it’d all be faded to grotesque yellows and greens. Maybe some would still be a blue-ish purple. He felt it everyday; that was enough of a reminder for him.  
  
“Blaine this-“  
  
“I know.”  
  
“One of your ribs-“  
  
“I know.”  
  
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid. Do you know how much that would cost?”  
  
“This isn’t about money. This is about your health.” Blaine shook his head, which only seemed to make Kurt more adamant. “Blaine this is serious.”  
  
“They can’t do anything for ribs anyway. All they’re gonna do is give me a bottle of Vicodin that I’ll never fill the prescription for.”  
  
“They have to set it or wrap it or something. I can see part of it poking out. Why didn’t you say anything?”  
  
“Because I didn’t want you to fuss over it,” he huffed, turning to face Kurt whose eyes were still glued to the bit of bone pressing against his skin that had formed a large swollen bump on his abdomen. He didn’t know why the worry in Kurt’s eyes made warmth bloom in his belly, but he decided he didn’t mind it.  
  
“Does it hurt to breathe?”  
  
“If I say no will you drop the whole hospital thing?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Then yes, it hurts to breathe. But as you know I’ve had broken ribs before. It’s really not a big deal.”  
  
“It’s broken, like really broken! Can’t the bone puncture a lung? Or other vital organs?” Kurt asked finally looking up at him, shifting a little closer on the couch. The movement made Blaine wince, which only added to Kurt’s argument. “You’re in pain, Blaine.”  
  
Blaine tried to find something to argue with, but instead he deadpanned, “I’ve been in pain for months, Kurt,” which was definitely the wrong thing to say.  
  
“I’m calling my dad over to watch Ben, and we’re going.” Kurt said it like a threat. Blaine wasn’t stupid enough to try and fight him anymore on it.


	4. Room 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of rape, domestic abuse, child abuse (though it does not take place). 
> 
> Also to clear things up, I'm following canon up until Blaine cheats. Instead of Blaine cheating with Eli C. he cheats with Sebastian, and then it's complete canon divergence.

It was only after the call that Blaine started to freak out.  
  
Kurt had called his dad. Burt Hummel was on his way over at that very moment. He was probably right down the street, and there was nowhere for Blaine to run to, no place where he could hide.  
  
Blaine had never seen him after the break up. He hadn’t talked to him since a few days before that. Blaine didn’t even think Kurt told him it was his kid that he would be watching. What was he going to say when he saw Blaine for the first time after he broke his son’s heart? Bruised and battered, just as weak as the day he let himself ruin the only good thing in his world. He hated even thinking that, because it was so fucking cliché, but back then it was the truth. He had no parents (not ones that cared anyway) and Cooper was in L.A. working on his first blockbuster movie. Kurt had been it for him. That was why after everything had gone down, after he’d begged and pleaded with him only to be told it was over, he crawled back to Sebastian who offered him all the affection he could ever ask for. How wrong he had been.  
  
“We may not have to go to the hospital,” Blaine said when he heard a car door shut outside, “your dad might kill me first.”  
  
“He will not. Now go grab your coat, and think of anything he should know about Ben.”  
  
Blaine did as he was told, sliding his arms into his coat slowly. The most important part about healing a broken rib was not moving it too much. After he was all zipped up he stopped off in the guest room. Ben was still snoozing, he was only halfway into his usual naptime, but Blaine knew he would freak if he woke up and he wasn’t there.  
  
“Hey, buddy?”  
  
It took a moment of gentle prodding before Ben finally roused, on high alert as soon as his eyes blinked open.  
  
“whashapnin?” He looked up to where Blaine hovered over him. His curls were splayed across one of the many decorative pillows, and there was a trail of drool at the corner of his mouth. Blaine wished he could curl up with him and nap for the rest of the month. But if he spent much more time in here, Kurt would come in and drag him out by his ear.  
  
“Daddy’s tummy hurts so Kurt is going to take him to the doctor.”  
  
“Am I going with you?”  
  
“No buddy, Kurt’s dad came to watch you, ok?” Blaine expected Ben to be a little nervous. When he was younger he was so out going. He would go up to strangers and climb onto their laps. He’d talk to anyone that was willing to listen, and if he shot them a smile most people were. But after the first time he saw Blaine get hit that all stopped. The smiles were few and far between, mostly reserved for times shared between him and Blaine. He clung to Blaine’s hand whenever they were in public, and stayed quiet for the most part. That’s why Blaine wasn’t surprised when Ben started to protest.  
  
“I wanna go with you!” He whined, kicking his feet in a tantrum under the duvet.  
  
“You can’t buddy, there’s no one to watch you at the hospital.”  
  
“I wanna stay with you!” He howled, his feet kicking harder.  
  
“I said no, Ben,” he rarely had to raise his voice, but when he did Ben knew he meant business. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come. I’ll be back soon though, and Burt will take really good care of you.”  
  
“Is Kurt’s daddy nice as Kurt?”  
  
“Don’t tell Kurt this,” he whispered, “but he’s even nicer.” That earned a giggle from the six-year-old. “So do you think you’re gonna be alright with Burt?” Ben frowned but nodded anyway. “Good. Go back to sleep now, Burt will be in the living room when you wake up ok?”  
  
“Mhmm,” he hummed, all ready drifting back to Dreamland.  
  
…  
  
He felt the tension before he was even in the living room. The Hummel men were consulting in hushed voices. Kurt’s arms folded defensively against his chest, while Burt talked with his hands like he always did when he was trying to make a point. Neither of them noticed when he entered.  
  
“Well he’s gotta let the authorities know, Kurt. He can’t let him get away with this-“  
  
“I know dad, I know. But he’s not- he’s fragile right now. That’s part of the reason why I’m making him got to the hospital. They’ve got to document this before the bruises fade.”  
“Do you think he’ll press charges?”  
  
“I don’t know, he- oh Blaine!” Kurt startled slightly, but it was obvious he thought that Blaine had only caught that last bit, “Did you talk to Ben?”  
  
“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’ll probably be jumpy for a little while but he should warm up to you,” he said, turning towards Burt, “but he knows you’re here and why so… I don’t really know. He can read, or play, or watch T.V. Whatever really, just thank you for coming, Burt. I know you probably never wanted to see me again…” he trailed off, not quite sure where he had been going with that jumbled mess he tried to pass as a greeting  
  
“It’s all in the past,” Burt said, putting a very light hand on his shoulder, he didn’t squeeze it or anything. He just let it lay there, a comfortable weight that reassured him more than words ever could.  
  
“We gotta go, dad.”  
  
Burt smiled but it was forced, “yeah, yeah,” he said, his hand slipping off Blaine’s shoulder.  
  
Blaine followed Kurt through the open door. He stopped at the threshold, and turned. It was if a magnet was pulling him back. He knew Ben would be alright, but he’d just realized that this was the first time since everything had happened that he would be away from him. He was ready to run back to the guest room, crawl under the covers and refuse to move until Ben was out of college. But suddenly there was a human shaped obstacle in his path.  
  
“I knew you’d try this,” Burt spit out a laugh, “we’ll be fine Blaine, I promise. Go get yourself healthy, kid.” and with that, the door was slammed in his face.  
…  
  
“You’ve got a break for sure,” Dr. Rosenberg said, clipping his X-ray to the light board. “Not much to do but tape it, and I’ll write you a prescription for the pain. Any allergies you know of?” Blaine turned to Kurt to give him an “I told you so!” look before looking back at the doctor. Blaine shook his head, “nope, none that I know of.”  
  
The doctor flipped off the light for the light board, before unclipping the X-ray and sticking it in Blaine’s file. She sat down in her chair making it roll across the linoleum floor, coming to a stop at his computer in the corner of the room. She typed lightning fast, jumping from box to box, filling in every question that popped up on her screen. She asked Blaine where he would like to pick the script up, Blaine looked to Kurt for the answer to that.  
  
“The Walgreens on Woodbury,” he supplied.  
  
The doctor typed some more, the rate at which the black text punctuated the stark white screen slowing gradually before coming to a complete halt. She blinked at her screen a few times. Tapped her pointer finger on his desk, near her mouse. She looked between Kurt and Blaine.  
  
“Could I speak to Blaine alone, Kurt?” The doctor asked, already standing up to open the door for him when Blaine’s sharp, “no!” stopped her mid stride.  
  
Blaine knew where this was going. He needed Kurt by his side for this, or else he wouldn’t know what to say. He’d probably even lie to save himself the embarrassment. He didn’t care how much pity the doctor gave him with her large, empathetic eyes, or her crooked smile. He didn’t want Kurt to leave.  
  
“I’m going to call in an officer and they’ll be asking some very personal questions, Blaine.”  
  
“I know,” his eyes sunk the ground as he nodded. His chest already felt tighter. He knew this was going to be hard, but he knew he had to do it.  
  
“You do want to report this, right, Blaine?”  
  
“Yes, I do.”  
  
“Well…ok then.” Dr. Rosenberg retuned to her seat. She sat down gently, crossing one leg over the other, looking at Blaine this time, not the computer. She picked up the clunky, corded phone, and dialed. “Yes, Domestic abuse victim, room 7. Yes, thank you.”  
  
The officer walked in a few minutes later.  
  
Dr. Rosenberg kept her promise about the personal questions. Blaine tried to keep his answers as PG as possible but there were some that Officer Gaines really pushed him on.  
  
“Did your husband ever force you into having sexual intercourse?”  
  
Blaine paused a moment. He could feel Kurt’s eyes on him as he waited for an answer. It made Blaine red to his ears, because of embarrassment and anger, but mostly anger. When his answer finally managed to travel from his brain to his mouth it was a simple, scratchy, “yes.” For him that was all anyone needed to know, but the officer thought otherwise.  
  
“Was this oral sex or penetration?”  
  
Blaine went from a nice carnation pink, to steamed lobster red, “both,” he shrugged.  
  
“It happened more than once?”  
  
“In the beginning it-I mean- I didn’t really understand what was happening in the beginning. He was-“ was…Blaine had just said ‘was’. “my husband, we’d had, you know, before. I didn’t know that what he was doing counted as… as rape I guess.” He felt sick by the end of the sentence, sicker than he’d felt since he’d left Sebastian. How had he been so stupid? How had he let it go one for so long?  
  
“Most domestic violence victims don’t unfortunately. They don’t think that having sex with their spouses, even if it’s not wanted, is considered rape, but it’s all the same in the eyes of the law.”  
  
Blaine shook his head, not knowing what the hell he could say to that. He was honestly just relieved he wasn’t the only one.  
  
“Did your husband ever molest or rape your son?” The officer said it so stoically, like she’d just asked Blaine what he’d had for breakfast. Blaine wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to have breakfast again with how sick the question made him feel. He felt as though his stomach had flipped inside out, the acid pouring out and devouring his heart.  
  
“Jesus…No! I would never- I’d never let him do that. I’d die before I let that happen. Jesus Christ, no.”  
  
“Ok, ok. That’s a positive.”  
  
Blaine scoffed, “there is nothing positive about this. The only positive thing is that we got out. Everything else is just…”  
  
“It’s bullshit is what it is.” Blaine turned to look in the direction of the small voice. Kurt’s arms were crossed across his chest, his head was down but Blaine could see that his eyes were red. “Shit like this shouldn’t happen, especially not to you. It’s bullshit.”  
  
“Kurt-“  
  
“No it’s-“ he sniffed and wiped under his eyes with his pointer fingers, before leveling his gaze with Officer Gaines, “are we almost done here?”  
  
Officer Gaines didn’t even look phased, which pissed Blaine off even more. She’s probably seen hundreds of men and women in Blaine’s position. The officer nodded, smiling at the two men sympathetically. “Well we still have to make a record of the abuse, we’re going to need to take some pictures of your injuries, ok Blaine?”  
  
“Yeah,” he sighed shakily, “let’s just get this over with,” he said, starting the painful process of removing his T-shirt.  
  
…  
  
“Daddy!”  
  
Burt sighed as he hefted himself off the couch, his knees cracking in the process. He walked down the narrow hallway to the guest room, opening the cracked door all the way he flipped on the light.  
  
“Hey bud, how was your nap?”  
  
Burt could see the panic that flashed through Ben’s eyes. He made himself smaller, making a shield out of a pillow he began rocking slightly.  
  
“Where’s my daddy?” he asked.  
  
Burt lowered himself gently onto the corner of the bed. He almost chuckled when Ben side eyed him with a very Kurt-esque death glare. “Your dad had to go to the doctors, remember? He came and woke you up and told you I was gonna watch you. I’m Kurt’s dad, Burt.”  
  
Ben looked thoughtful for a moment. He cocked his head, “it’s a little dumb that your name is Burt, and Kurt’s name is Kurt. It’s so rhyme-y, like a Dr. Seuss book.”  
  
Burt laughed through his nose, “you’re right it is a little silly huh? But me and Kurt’s mom thought it would be nice.”  
  
“Kurt’s nice anyway, he doesn’t need a rhyming name.”  
  
“I suppose you’re right.”  
  
They sat there for a moment. Ben went from side eyeing Burt, to staring at the pillow’s fringe. Back and forth, back and forth. Burt was just about to suggest a movie when Ben finally spoke up.  
  
“I don’t have a mommy.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No. I have daddy… and papa, but papa’s mean now.”  
  
“You know, Kurt’s mom went up to heaven when he was really young, he doesn’t really have a mommy anymore either.”  
  
“I wish I didn’t have a papa anymore, so daddy could stop being sad.”  
  
“Well, you haven’t seen your papa in a few days, has daddy been happier?”  
  
Ben considered this for a moment, setting the pillow aside he straightened out his legs under the duvet. “Yeah, I think so. He smiles more. Kurt makes him laugh sometimes. Usually when they talk about Dalton. Who’s Dalton?”  
  
“Dalton isn’t a person,” Burt chuckled, “Dalton is the school that your dad and Kurt went to when they were kids.”  
  
“But daddy said he went to M-McKinley.”  
  
“Well he went there too. Kurt started high school at McKinley but he transferred to Dalton cause he was getting bullied. That’s where he met your dad. Then they transferred back to McKinley when the bully was gone.”  
  
“Was he bullied like daddy was bullied by papa?”  
  
“Unfortunately, yes,” Burt sighed.  
  
Ben looked down at the bedspread and frowned, “I’m sad that Kurt got bullied like daddy. But I’m glad they met. Cause Kurt makes daddy happy. I’m glad they’re friends.”  
  
Burt smiled, he squeezed his eyes shut in order to stop them from prickling with unshed tears. Burt knew how much pain Blaine caused Kurt. But he knew it wasn’t a one-way street. He wouldn’t lie, he wanted to kill Blaine when he got that call. He hated him for cheating on Kurt, but, like Ben, he was glad to see them as friends again. They really were good for each other, as friends or as boyfriends. Burt didn’t care, it was just nice to see them both smiling a little bit more.  
  
“I’m really glad they’re friends too. Wanna go watch a movie while we wait for them to get home?”  
  
“Yeah! Can we watch Little Mermaid?”  
  
“Ha! Of course we can mini Prince Eric.”


	5. Chicken Parm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry school got in the way of everything. I'm hoping that this will be finished before the next semester starts, but I can't make any promises.

“Was he good?”  
  
Burt laughed as he hefted himself off the couch, “best behaved kid I’ve ever met. Though he did have a little trouble when he first woke up, but then he remembered that you came in and told him you were leaving and he calmed down.”  
  
“Thank you again, Burt. I really appreciate you going out of your way to help me, after everything I’ve put Kurt through.”  
  
“Blaine, just stop,” Burt dismissed his rambling with a wave of his hand, which he stuck right back into the pocket of his vest. “I already told you, clean slate, no worries. And hey, if you’re not busy or, you know, whatever, why don’t you and Ben join us for Friday night dinner this week? Hell every week, as long as you’re here!”  
  
Blaine loved Burt, and Carole, and Finn, he really did. But could he handle that many pairs of pitying eyes over some sort of casserole? “No, no we-“  
  
“You’re coming,” Burt said, and there was his hand again, placed light as a feather on Blaine’s shoulder, “Carole would love to see you. Oh and she’ll flip when she sees Ben!”  
  
…  
  
Carole does indeed flip when she sees Ben.  
  
“Oh my gosh!” Her hands flew to her mouth, “oh, Blaine! He looks just like you! He’s too cute, how do you ever say no to that face?”  
  
“It’s definitely not easy Carole, especially when he gets that lip working. It’s a killer.”  
  
Carole smiles at him, the same smile from all those years ago with no hint of pity or disgust. Just the same motherly, loving look she always had to offer him. For the first time since being back in Lima Blaine felt normal. It felt really, really good.  
  
The three boys shucked their coats off and hung them by the door before they ventured into the dining room.  
  
“I wasn’t sure what Ben ate so I made chicken parm and broccoli, I thought that was a safe dish, I hope that’s ok?” Carole inquires as she scoops out servings for everyone.  
  
“It’s great Carole, thank you again. Ben loves chicken parm, don’t you bud?” Ben nodded enthusiastically as he tucked his napkin into his collar.  
  
“Oh and what excellent table manners he has, 6 years old and he doesn’t even have to be told to use his napkin.” Carole added nodding impressed by the young boy.  
  
“Well there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s Blaine’s son,” Kurt giggled.  
  
“So where’s Finn?” Blaine asked before stuffing a floret of broccoli in his mouth, “I thought he came back here when he left New York?”  
  
Blaine thought it’d be and easy question, with and easy answer. ‘Oh, he’s at the garage.’ ‘He’s really stepped up.’ ‘It’s gonna be Hudmel Tire and Lube pretty soon!’ But What Blaine didn’t expect was utter silence. A silence that shouted the answer at him, far before anyone could speak it.  
  
Three pairs of silverware stilled over their plates. Three pairs of eyes locked, all of them shone with unshed tears. There was a gasp and then the scrape of a chair moving too forcefully over the wood floor as Carole ran from the dining room. Blaine felt nausea creep into his stomach in into his throat.  
  
“Wha-?” Unfinished, and unnecessary, the question hung in the air. He knew, of course Blaine knew, but he couldn’t accept it until it fell from one of their mouths.  
  
It was Burt who finally found the courage to turn to him. His eyes were sadder than Blaine had ever seen them. It made his heart ache to see a man he’d always looked up to for his unwavering strength, look so torn apart.  
  
“Finn died, Blaine.”  
  
…  
  
It was late, like really late. And it had been a rough day. The last thing Kurt wanted to do was leave the warm cocoon of his comforter. But he could hear him crying, and he couldn’t just leave him to grieve alone.  
  
Damn him for being such a good friend.  
  
Kurt shuffled down the hallway, his thick socks scratched over the carpet. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his sleep crusted eyes. He switched on the lamp next to the couch. He lowered himself gently onto his knees, crossed his feet under him and sat on them. He slowly began to card his fingers through Blaine’s hair as he laid on the couch; stuttering sobs escaped him every few seconds.  
  
“How did I let this h-happen?”  
  
“How did you let what happen?”  
  
“Your brother died…Kurt, and I didn’t know.” He closed his eyes forcefully, tears spilled sideways down his face. “I didn’t know!” Kurt could see as the anger rose in him. The way he suddenly jerked upright. He sat Indian style at the other end of the couch; he hugged a pillow to his chest, his fingers picking at the fringe. “You were my best friend,” he started, he wiped his eyes with the base of his palm. “You were the person I loved the most in the whole world, and I let that all slip always because I’m a pathetic, needy bitch who can’t handle being ignored for more than five minutes.”  
  
“Blaine, that’s not-“  
  
“And now I don’t know anything about you!” He continued, talking right over Kurt, “I don’t know what you do. I don’t know what your favorite song is. I don’t even know if you’re seeing someone? I don’t know you anymore Kurt, and it’s killing me. It’s killing me to be here with you. You want to know that saddest part?” He shakes his head unbelievingly. His eyes meet Kurt’s and he shrugs the pillow still clutched tightly to his chest. “You’re still my best friend. You are still the best friend that I have ever had in my whole life, and I haven’t spoken to you in over a decade. I probably wouldn’t have ever talked to you again if it hadn’t been for this.”  
  
He wasn’t wrong, Kurt knew that. Kurt wasn’t ready to forgive him back then, and then it just got too late. Out of sight, out of mind. Except of course Blaine was never truly and completely out of Kurt’s mind. Kurt always had that “what if” tickling at the back of his brain. What if he’d risked the world’s most perfect job in order to spend a little more time with his boyfriend?  
  
He wouldn’t be where he was today. Would he be ok with that? He was really happy with how his life had been going before Blaine had barged in, kid in hand. But now that Blaine was here, back in his life with a kid? He couldn’t help but think that, that was supposed to be them. That he was supposed to be Ben’s other dad, and not Sebastian Smythe. They had talked about this once upon a time, the whole “family” thing. They decided on number, and names, and what kind of schools they would go to.  
  
Back then it was too much for Kurt to even think about Blaine in any capacity, but now? He missed them. He missed their friendship, how easy it had been in the beginning. And even the hard stuff wasn’t so hard. Because like the other man had said, Blaine was still the best friend he’d ever had. The thought puts a crooked smile on Kurt’s face.  
  
“You’re right,” he said, “we wouldn’t have talked again if it hadn’t been for this. But that’s not on you ok, Blaine? It’s on both of us. Ok?” He asked punctuating his question with a nod of his head. Blaine nodded back timidly.  
  
“How ‘bout this,” Kurt said as he rose and took a seat next to Blaine on the couch, “We can stay up for a while and catch each other up?”  
  
“You already know all there is to know about me, Kurt.”  
  
“Come on, that’s not true! I don’t know what you do or…did for work. I don’t know your favorite song either. If you still like your coffee the same way? These are all things that a best friend needs to know!”  
  
Kurt watched Blaine as his muscles relaxed starting at his shoulders and working all the way down. A smile pulled at the other man’s lips. He looked up at Kurt from under his lashes.  
  
“You wanna be my best friend again?”  
  
“Like you said, you’re still the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  



	6. Someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on writing this scene, I was planning on skipping ahead a little bit. A few of you expressed that you wanted to see this scene though so I'd thought I'd take a shot at it!

“Coffee?”  
  
“Still a medium drip, you?”  
  
“Still a non-fat mocha. Some things will never change.”  
  
“Desert?”  
  
“Still cheesecake.  
  
“Wow this is going to be really boring if nothing has changed.”  
  
“Still cronuts?”  
  
“Still cronuts.”  
  
“Lordy… Favorite song?”  
  
“‘Satisfied’, from Hamilton.”  
  
“Ugh, Blaine, everyone has a favorite song from Hamilton.”  
  
“Yeah because Lin is a genius! What’s yours?”  
  
“It’s ‘What Would You Do?’ from If/Then.”  
  
“Isn’t that the one that’s only like a minute and a half?”  
  
“Yeah… it’s a really powerful minute and a half. It really makes you think.”  
  
“Well I’ll have to have another listen later then.”  
  
“Ok,” Kurt said ducking his head, trying to cover up the fact that he was turning red, knowing what Blaine would uncover from the song. The fact that he still thought about Blaine, a lot. “What’s your favorite movie?”  
  
“Sing Street, it came out in 2015 or 2016? I can’t remember. I just remember that it’s amazing.”  
  
“Mine’s Florence Foster Jenkins.”  
  
“Oh yeah, that was really good.”  
  
“What did you do in New York? Like for work?”  
  
“Theatre, mostly off and off off Broadway, but the year before we decided to have Ben I was in Wicked.”  
  
“Blaine!” Kurt said, his eyes doubling in size, “that’s incredible!”  
  
“Please, I was just a flying monkey. I only got to play Fiyero a couple of times,” Blaine said, oozing nonchalance but a smirk pulled at his lips as he watched Kurt’s reaction.  
  
“God-Blaine…how did you give that up?”  
  
“Wait until you have a kid, then you’ll understand.”  
  
“How did you end up with a kid?” Kurt questioned. He stretched his legs out into the center of the couch shaking them out, they’d fallen asleep from being crossed for so long. From the other side of the couch Blaine did the same, slotting their legs together.  
  
“I’ve always wanted kids, you know that.”  
  
“Yeah but Sebastian? I wouldn’t have pegged him as a family man.”  
  
“I wanted a baby,” Blaine shrugged, “Sebastian and I talked about it and he agreed. I don’t think he ever really wanted a kid, but I think he knew that I’d make it happen eventually, with or without him. I guess he agreed in order to keep me around.”  
  
“Ben is yours biologically though, right? I mean he looks just like you.”  
  
“Yeah he’s all mine,” Blaine’s eyes filled with so much love, Kurt was surprised his pupils didn’t turn into little hearts. It was clear how much he adored the little boy.  
  
“I want that some day,” Kurt said wistfully.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I wanna know that kind of all consuming, no strings attached love.”  
  
“You will…someday.” Kurt wished he was convinced as Blaine sounded.  
  
“I just gotta meet the right guy first.”  
  
“Ick,” Blaine’s face scrunched up, one side of his lip pulled up higher than the other “who needs men anyway.”  
  
“Uh…” Kurt deadpanned, “I do! I have needs Blaine, and it’s much harder to find someone after you’ve had a kid. Plus, I don’t just want the kid, I want the whole package. I want the family, 2.5 kids, a white picket fence, and a golden retriever. I want it all.”  
  
“When did you get so damn middle America?” Blaine asked, trying to keep in a laugh.  
  
“I don’t know; I guess we’ve changed more than we thought.”  
  
“Well maybe you have, I’ve always wanted those things.”  
  
“Remember our old fights? You were always pulling for more kids; I was always content with one that we could put all our energy into.” Kurt’s lips pulled down in a frown, turning suddenly sorrowful. “When Finn died I was really able to appreciate everything it meant to have a sibling. I was taking it all for granted. And when he was just gone…”  
  
“Hey,” Blaine said, opening his arms, “come here.” It took barely a second before Kurt was in them. He slotted himself behind Blaine on the couch, their legs still intertwined. Kurt buried his head into the soft fabric of Blaine’s t-shirt.  
  
“I had to deal with so much on my own all throughout my childhood and up until high school. I wouldn’t want that for my own kid, I would want them to always have someone they could talk to if they felt like they couldn’t talk to me about something. Someone to always have their back. I know not all siblings are like that, you and Cooper were never very close but… I still like the idea of the ‘built in best friend’.”  
  
“It’s a nice thought,” Blaine smiled down at the top of Kurt’s head, the thought of placing a kiss in his silky, chestnut locks passed through his mind but only for a split second. “I’d like to give Ben a sibling,” he said instead, “someday.”  
  
“You will… someday,” Kurt said, echoing Blaine’s earlier sentiment. There was that smile again, and the urge to kiss the top of the taller man’s head. He tightened his arms around him instead, pulling them both further into the depths of the couch. He could hear Kurt’s breathing evening out. He could feel himself drifting too. He should wake him up. Blaine himself should go sleep in the real bed with Ben, maybe then he could get a good night’s sleep. He should not have let Kurt fall asleep on him. But he did anyway.  
  
He didn’t have a single nightmare that night.


	7. Where We Need To Be

The following week Blaine found a job and it felt sort of like fate.  
  
“The music teacher at the middle school got into a car accident and broke her pelvis, which really sucks for her, but it means they were desperate. Apparently they were ready to hire the first person who had any substantial musical background. I start tomorrow!”  
  
“Blaine!” Kurt jumped up from his place on the couch and hugged Blaine around the neck. “This is great! You’ll stick around here for a while then?” Kurt asked, pulling out of the hug.  
  
“Yeah, she’ll be out for at least 3 months and then I’m sure I can line something else up. I should really get a second job anyway so I can start looking for a place of my own.”  
  
“Blaine-” Kurt chastised, his head cocking to the side.  
  
“Can’t stay here forever, Kurt,” Blaine said with a shrug.  
  
“Don’t leave before you’re absolutely sure you can afford it, ok?”  
  
Blaine nodded, “Actually,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d be willing to watch Ben some nights if I was able to get a gig around town? I totally understand if you’re not up for it. I would just really like to start paying you back and gigs would help me out with that.”  
  
“You don’t have to pay me back, Blaine,” Kurt sighed. “But yes. I will watch Ben while you use that pretty voice of yours to save up money for an apartment for you and your boy.”  
  
“And could I possibly borrow the Navigator?”  
  
“I suppose,” Kurt huffed playfully.  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes fondly, “thanks, you’re the best.”  
  
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me!”  
  
“Oh! Guess what else I did today?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I enrolled Ben in School! He’s gonna start up again after Christmas break.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, he’s already been out for so long, I don’t want him to fall too far behind.”  
  
“So,” Kurt’s tone took a cautious turn, “does this mean that you’re gonna get a place here then? In Lima?”  
  
Blaine looked up at Kurt with a bright smile, “yeah, I think Lima is where we need to be right now.”  
  
“I think you might just be right.”  
  
…  
  
Blaine lines up a gig for the following weekend. It’s at a café, a little further out than he’d planned, but it pays a decent amount. And if all goes way it may become a weekly thing.  
  
“You’re leaving at 6 tonight, right?” Kurt asked, prodding at omelet he had going on the stove. The morning felt slower than normal. It was a Saturday, which meant Blaine had absolutely nothing to do, and neither did Kurt. It also meant that he could let Ben sleep in.  
  
The past week had been tough for Ben. On Monday, Blaine had tried to sneak out for his first day at work without waking his sleeping son. No such luck. Ben caught him just as he was opening the front door. He’d thrown a massive fit, which woke Kurt, leaving all three of them a little grumpy. Blaine had explained the situation to him the night before, but Ben seemed to suffer from sleep induced amnesia. Or maybe he thought that feigning ignorance would get him his way.  
  
Blaine had eventually made it out the door, with only a five-minute buffer. For the rest of the week, Blaine made sure to wake Ben up and give him a kiss goodbye before he left for work. It seemed to be working. Ben gave him very little attitude, which was much appreciated, because he couldn’t say the same for his middle school students.  
  
Blaine was thankful for the calm morning, and even more thankful for the omelet that was waiting for him at his place at the table.  
  
“Yeah, the café’s in Fort Wayne. The gig starts at 8, so I’m hoping to be home by like 12? If that’s ok?”  
  
“Yeah, fine! I have a couple things I have to pick up, do you mind if I take Ben to the mall?”  
  
“Uh,” Blaine said around a mouthful of egg and cheese, “no that’s fine. Just uh, if he bugs you for stuff you can just tell him that Santa’s coming soon. It should get him off your case.”  
  
“Sounds good.” Kurt said, plating his omelet, taking the seat across from Blaine.  
  
“Oh, can you jot down anything he shows extra interest in? I still need to get him some little things.”  
  
“I can do that! You don’t mind if I get him a few things right? I know that-“  
  
“No, that’s fine. I mean if you want to! Don’t feel like you have to because we’re gonna be here.”  
  
Kurt smiled at him from across the table, “I want to.”  
  
…  
  
“So,” Kurt said to Ben after he heard Blaine start up the Navigator and pull out of the driveway, “do you wanna help me pick out a Christmas present for your dad?”  
  
“Yeah! Can I pick one out for him too?”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
“Wait,” Ben’s face scrunched up, “daddy has the car, how are we gonna get to the mall?”  
  
“Oh grasshopper, you have yet to learn that I think of everything!”  
  
“My name’s not grasshopper, Kurt, it’s Ben!”  
  
“I know silly,” Kurt giggled, “it’s just a nickname.”  
  
“How are we getting there though?”  
  
“You know how my dad owns a garage where he fixes cars?”  
  
Ben nodded.  
  
“Well sometimes he buys really cool cars from people and fixes them up. And sometimes when he’s all done with them he lets me drive them around to test them out!”  
  
“So we’re going in a really cool car?”  
  
“The coolest!”  
  
…  
  
Ok, so maybe the old Impala wasn’t the coolest car ever, but it was definitely a classic. And it was definitely cooler than all the minivans that filled up the mall’s parking lot.  
  
Kurt and Ben headed to the food court first to have a quick dinner. Kurt wasn’t too keen on giving in to Ben’s pleads for McDonalds, but Blaine said one happy meal wasn’t gonna kill him.  
  
When they’re finished there they head into Macy’s.  
  
“What do you think Daddy would like for Christmas?”  
  
“Umm,” Ben swung his and Kurt’s clasped hands between them jerkily. “I think Daddy would want an RC truck!”  
  
“Is that what your daddy would want, or what you want?”  
  
Ben got suddenly coy, knowing he’d been caught red handed. “It’s what I want,” he confessed.  
  
“I think your dad might like a nice sweater he can wear to work, what do you think? Does that sound good?”  
  
Ben shrugged.  
  
Kurt laughed as they turned the corner in to menswear, but it was soon cut short by surprise and fear.  
  
He almost didn’t recognize him. It had been over a decade after all. He’d filled out, not as meerkat-ish as he was in high school. His first instinct was to run, but if Seb spotted him he’d know something was up. Kurt’s hand instinctively clutched onto Ben’s tighter. Ben’s head snapped up to look at him.  
  
“What’s wrong, Kurt?”  
  
Kurt’s eyes darted between Ben and where Sebastian was twirling the tie rack with his index finger. He looked around the store floor, looking for the best place to hide a six-year-old boy.  
  
“Ben, sweetie, do you see that round rack of pants over there?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I need you to go hide in it, ok?”  
  
“But why?”  
  
Kurt lowered himself into a squat to meet the young boy’s eyes. He didn’t want to scare him. He knew that the mere mention of Sebastian would send him into a full blown meltdown, but he needed to portray the seriousness of the situation.  
  
“Ben, I need you to be a big boy for me right now ok? I need you to climb into the middle of that rack and I need you to not come out until I tell you to, ok? I need you to trust me like you’d trust Captain America.”  
  
Kurt could feel him starting to tremble, but he nodded and ran over to the rack. Kurt watched him to make sure he couldn’t be seen before he turned his attention to a table of sweaters. He made a show of shaking one out before holding it up to himself. He walked over to the mirror closest to the ties. He wanted to keep Seb as far from Ben as possible. Kurt pulled the sweater taut against his chest, turning slightly from side to side in the mirror.  
  
“Kurt?”  
  
Kurt couldn’t help but sneer, but thankfully that wouldn’t have been out of character before everything happened. “Oh, Sebastian, what a lovely surprise.”  
  
“Aw Kurtsie, still bitter I stole your boo? After all these years?”  
  
“How is Blaine?”  
  
“Oh he’s great. He’s at my parent’s house with our son today. He’s six, cute as hell. Wanna see a picture?”  
  
Kurt felt the acid of his bile burning at the back of his throat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout liar, and abuser, and every word he’s ever associated with Sebastian Smythe. But instead he used his superior acting skills to portray the shock he would have felt if he was finding out this information for the first time.  
  
“You and Blaine have a son?”  
  
“Jealousy isn’t really your color, Kurt.”  
  
“You’re right, my color is navy blue.”  
  
“So do you want to see a picture then?”  
  
“Sure,” Kurt ground out.  
  
Sebastian smiled but his eyes were sharp. He pulled out his phone and started to swipe. He swiped for quite a while. And when Sebastian turned his phone and Kurt saw the picture he’d pulled up tears started prickling at the back of his eyes. The picture that Sebastian choose was at least a year old. Ben was a couple inches shorter, his hair in a neat crop, and cheeks were still rounded from baby fat. But none of that mattered, all that mattered was that a year and a half ago Ben was smiling. He was smiling with a jack-o-lantern smile. His two front, bottom teeth missing. His blue eyes glinting with joy and an excitement that Kurt had yet to see in real life.  
  
“Oh thank god,” Kurt said his throat a bit gruffer, but otherwise steady, “he looks just like Blaine.”  
  
“I know, he’s beautiful.”  
  
“You’re very lucky,” Kurt agreed. Sebastian smirked, as he grabbed a tie off the rack. He looked it over in his hand and nodded.  
  
“Mmhmm, well it was good to see you, Kurt. I’ll tell Blaine you said ‘hi’.”  
  
“Yes I’m sure you will.”  
  
“See you around.” Sebastian said as he turned, heading towards the checkout line.  
  
“Yeah, hopefully not.” He mumbled when he was a few feet away. He waited and waited, going through every pile on the table in front of him as he waited for Sebastian to check out. He was still fifth in line after nearly 5 minutes. Kurt couldn’t stop worrying about Ben. He was terrified he was going to come out of his hiding spot any minute. He couldn’t let that happen. Sebastian was still technically his legal guardian. He could take him and Kurt wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.  
  
Kurt almost cried from relief when another register opened and Sebastian skipped the three people who were still in front of him to get into the other line. He was out with in a minute, and Kurt was over to Ben with in a matter of seconds.  
  
“Ben?”  
  
Two little arms appeared through the curtain of pants and flung themselves around Kurt’s legs.  
  
“Why was Papa here, Kurt? Papa’s not supposed to be here.”  
  
“You saw your Papa?” Kurt’s voice must have been sharper than he intended because Ben’s lip started to tremble and his red tear stained cheeks got redder and wetter. The boy nodded, sucking in his cheeks as he started to cry harder and harder into Kurt’s pants. He was making a scene and suddenly everyone in the store had their eyes on them. Kurt could feel their heated glares and judgment beating down on him. He wanted to grab Ben and run out of there but Sebastian just left and he couldn’t risk running into him in the parking lot.  
  
He lowered himself to his knees and grasped Ben gently by the shoulders. He made him meet his eyes. “Ben, did your Papa see you?” Kurt watched as more tears rolled over the boy’s bottom lids, but Ben shook his head ‘no’.  
  
Relief washed over Kurt like a hurricane.  
  
He pulled Ben to his chest and stroked his hair. “Good, that’s good, Ben. You did a really good job hiding buddy. A really good job. We’re gonna go home now ok?”  
  
Ben nodded into his chest, as Kurt stood with the six-year-old still secure in his arms.  
  
Blaine wasn’t there when they get home, he was still at his gig and would be for hours. Kurt kicked off his shoes and carried Ben over to the couch. They sat there until Blaine got home from work. Kurt’s arms wrapped protectively around Ben. He didn’t let him out of his sight. Didn’t even let him walk to the bathroom alone. He stood outside of the door and waited, and when he was done they went right back to the couch. Ben snuggled between Kurt and the back of the couch. They fell asleep like that, and later when Kurt awakened he found a blanket wrapped around them and a smiling Blaine sitting in the arm chair across from them. And Kurt fell apart.


	8. We

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a million years. I'm sorry. I have no excuse other than life. I hope you enjoy this! I'm hoping to have the Christmas chapter out before Christmas, lol. Can't make any promises though.

“We had plans to visit his parents for Christmas. Honestly I’d completely forgotten about it. I’m surprised he still came. I’m surprised he’s told them we’re not coming.” Blaine reacted a lot better to Sebastian being in town than Kurt had expected. His lack of distress almost worried Kurt more.  
  
“You don’t think he knows you’re here do you?”  
  
Blaine rubbed at his eyes, he inhaled roughly as he pulled his hands down his face, letting them fall to rest on his chin. “I mean, it’s well with in the realm of possibility. I’ve only ever lived two places; it’s not far fetched for him to think I came back home.” He let his hands fall to his side, he shrugged and continued, “Even if he does know we’re here, I’m not going to let him get to Ben.”  
  
Kurt took a step towards the shorter man. Somehow his palm came to cup Blaine’s cheek. He stalled for a second, his own cheeks turning a light pink. “And I’m not going to let him get to either of you. Ok?”  
  
“Kurt…” he whispered as Kurt let his hand drop.  
  
“It’s been less than a month since you left him Blaine. Since he… I don’t… I can’t-” Kurt could feel his breaths coming faster and faster. Different scenarios running through his head. One after the other. One starting before the previous could even come to an end.  
  
“Kurt, hey, hey, hey, what is this about?” Blaine questioned, crowding in closer to Kurt. He grabbed on to both of the taller man’s shoulders. The touch shocked Kurt into looking at him.  
  
“I’m scared for you, Blaine.”  
  
Blaine nodded understandingly, “I’m scared for me too, but I’m not the one that’s in the wrong here. Sebastian is a terrible human being. Anyone can see that. Even if he finds us he’s never getting as much as a supervised visit with Ben.”  
  
“Since when are you the reasonable one?” Kurt questioned with a wet chuckle.  
  
“Since when are you the worry wart? Try and relax, ok? Sebastian will only be here until the 2nd, and then he’ll be back in New York and out of our lives. But right now it’d be best to just keep a level head and not show Ben that there’s anything to worry about.”  
  
If Blaine was worried about anything it was how his son was taking this. Blaine could handle Sebastian. Ok, obviously he couldn’t handle Sebastian alone, but he knew that with the Hummels on his side he and Ben would be plenty safe from any physical harm. It was the mental and emotional turmoil he was worried about. It was easy to stand here in front of Kurt and put on a brave face. A face he’d schooled himself in a lot over the past few years. A face he used often at the grocery store when he was asked about the bruises poking out of his long sleeve shirts during the winter months. Or the black eye he’d received the first time he’d attempted to fight back. It was harder to be brave for the person who has seen you at your lowest. The person who had lived through everything along side you. Shared in all the hurt and anger. Especially when that person was looking up to you to know what to do and how to react.  
  
“He hasn’t had a very healthy or stable life so far. It’s time that changed. I think that the way I handle this is an important turning point for him. Honestly that’s the thing I’m most nervous about right now.”  
  
“Well _we_ can handle it if that will make it easier?” Kurt suggested as he took a step back. He hoped he was coming off as nonchalant. He wanted to be helpful, to be a friend. But he really did not want to make him feel uncomfortable in anyway. He felt the tension in his body flood out as an easy smile replaced the tight lipped expression on Blaine’s face.  
  
“That might be a really good thing, if you don’t mind. I mean, just being here helps so much. It’s great for him to see what a proper, respectful relationship between adults looks like.”  
  
To see Blaine as a parent, it was as if Kurt was seeing him truly at home for the first time. Kurt knew that Blaine never really felt like he belonged anywhere. He wasn’t close to his parents or his brother. He never truly felt like he fit in at Dalton. And he was always an outsider at McKinley, he was always ‘Blaine Warbler’ to them. He never seemed to find his place, Kurt could always see the uneasiness of not belonging in him. Ben had erased all of that. Blaine was meant to be a dad. Kurt had always seen Blaine’s strength. He’d always admired his tenacity, his courage in the face of adversity. They way he inspired others with that same courage the way he’d inspired Kurt all those years ago. Blaine was meant to have someone he could pass that courage on to. He deserved to have a child that would give him the unconditional love that he’d never received from his own family. He deserved to find somewhere he belonged. And as long as he and Ben were with each other they would always have that place.  
  
“Ben’s really lucky to have a dad like you, you know that right?”  
  
“Is it conceited if I say yes?”  
  
“No, I think it’s great that you’re able to recognize your strength.”  
  
“I mean obviously I’m not perfect. And every good parent is always looking for ways to improve. But I think of my childhood, and how my parents raised me and I’m honestly jealous of Ben. Even with everything he’s gone through he’s still happy. At least he seems happy. I can’t say the same for myself. I was always being put down by my parents and Cooper. My goal when I had Ben was to never make him feel like that, like I did all the time growing up.”  
  
“He’s happy. I know it might be tough for you because all you can see is all the pain he’s been through, but kids are resilient. Especially when they have a strong support system. And as a former sad kid myself I can see that he’s not like we were. He’s truly a happy kid, Blaine.”  
  
Blaine’s eyes drifted over to where Ben was still fast asleep on the couch. He’d curled nearly in a ball under the thin blanket he’d placed over the two of them early. He was probably a little cold now without Kurt there to keep him warm.  
  
“I don’t know what I’m going to say to him.”  
  
“Just let him know you’re here for him, whatever he needs from you, you’ll be able to give it to him.”  
  
“I know I seem like I got it together right now, but it’s gonna be a whole other story if he starts to freak out.”  
  
“If that happens I’ll be here as a level head. Like I said, we can do this together.”  
  
Blaine inhaled and exhaled harshly through his nose as he nodded his head. He could feel Kurt’s eyes on him. He didn’t turn to look back at him. He had seen enough pity lately. He would be able to hold it together for Ben. He had to. He turned to take a step but was stopped by a hand on his bicep.  
  
“Blaine, wait.” He was enveloped in him again. It was the same scent he’d always had. Freshly ironed cotton and pine. And his arms. They were just as strong as they had been that night he ran into them all the way from New York. Tonight though they weren’t here to hold him up. Blaine had found his footing. Tonight, Kurt’s arms just said ‘I’m here’. Something he’d been saying all night, but something Blaine hadn’t really been listening to until that moment.  
  
Something changed between them.  
  
Or had it?  
  
Blaine pushed the thought down as quickly as it surfaced. He wouldn’t allow himself to think such foolishly hopeful things. It had been years since he last thought about Kurt like that. Years since he’d let himself think there was even a fraction of a chance that they’d ever get back together. He was married. And then he was having a kid and life got too hard to leave any room for wishful thinking and nonsense. And he was the one who had fucked everything up. He had no right to hope.  
  
And yet.  
  
It wasn’t a discussion for tonight. It wasn’t a discussion for this week or this month even. But New Years was just around the corner.  
  
Blaine was the one to disengage from the hug. Instead he tangled their fingers together, they walked to the couch hand in hand. Ben blinked his eyes open as they settled onto the cushions. He jumped into Blaine’s lap immediately, tears already springing to his eyes. Blaine held him tightly, rocking him and reassuring him while Kurt rubbed his back. Ben settled sooner rather than later, exhaustion taking over. Blaine carried him to bed, Kurt tagging along, opening doors for them and turning down their sheets. As he was tucking his son in, Blaine thought of how nice it was to not have to do this alone.


	9. Christmas

Blaine woke up Christmas morning to the smell of warm cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. He lay in bed a few moments, so tempted by the amazing scents tickling his nose, yet so turned off by the idea of leaving the warmth of his bed. Especially since he still hadn’t invested in a pair of socks. He also didn’t want to wake Ben. Children should always be the ones to wake their parents on Christmas morning, it was a firm belief of Blaine’s. Ben had woken him and Seb up the past three Christmases by jumping at the foot of their bed. Seb would just grumble and turn over for a few more minutes, but Blaine was always ready to spring into action. He would indulge any and every fantasy that Ben believed in. If Ben believed in Santa and the Tooth Fairy until he was twelve, Blaine wouldn’t care. He wanted him to be a kid for as long as possible. He’s had to grow up too much too soon already.

Blaine waited so long he ended up falling back asleep. Not that he was mad about that. It was Christmas and they didn’t have to be to Burt’s until two, but he did feel kind of bad for leaving Kurt alone. Though he was probably happy to have the cinnamon buns all to himself.

Blaine only realized he hadn’t woken up on his own accord when there was a light tap on the door frame.

“Yeah?” He whisper-shouted, knowing anything louder would wake the boy curled next to him.

Kurt peeked his head in, the rest of his body followed. He was holding something behind his back.

“What is that?” Blaine giggled quietly.

“Your first gift!” Kurt said with hushed excitement.

“Kurt.”

“Oh shush, it’s nothing.”

Blaine’s apprehension faded into a glistening smile. “Well if it’s _nothing_.” He held out a hand for the gift.

“Close your eyes,” Kurt instructed. Blaine did as he was told. He waved his waiting fingers. He let out a chuckle when the gift was placed in his hand. He knew exactly what it was. He couldn’t help but feel moved, even with the simplicity of the gift.

“You got me socks,” he said. Opening his eyes, he gazed up at Kurt.

“Yes, and,” He revealed another item from behind his back, “I got Ben matching ones!”

“That’s so cute. Thank you, Kurt.”

“I told you, it was nothing. Just put them on, and have Ben put his on, and then we can start the Christmas festivities.”

“I can’t believe he’s not up yet,” Blaine said turning his body to face his son who hadn’t even stirred since Kurt came in. Blaine was glad he was getting restful sleep now that he wasn’t having as many nightmares but he didn’t want him to get used to sleeping in too late. He would have to start school again soon. “Wanna do the honors? Tell him that Santa came?”

Kurt masked a quiet squeal by biting his bottom lip as he nodded excitedly.

“Benny…” Kurt cooed, as he knelt down next to the boy’s side of the bed.  Ben started to shift around, grumbling sleepily. He threw an arm over his eyes rather dramatically. The action drew a chuckle out of the two older men. “Ben guess who came last night?”

“Santa?” He mumbled, still not showing any signs of getting out of bed.

“Yup! And I already spotted lots of presents with your name on them!”

Ben peeked his blue eyes out from under his arm. “Really?”

“Yeah, wanna go open some before breakfast?”

Ben nodded his head, suddenly wide awake. He threw off his covers revealing the cutest reindeer onesie Kurt had ever seen.

“Well this must be why you slept so long, you were so cozy in that onesie. I wouldn’t wanna leave my bed either.”

“I get a onesie every Christmas Eve. Jingle leaves it on my bed. But I was scared he wouldn’t leave it this year cause he couldn’t find your house. Daddy said that he’d probably find it just in time and he did!”

“I’m so glad to hear that! Oh, but your onesie has feet on it, huh?”

“Yeah, so my toes don’t get cold,” the six-year-old said putting his feet in the air he wiggled his toes through the fleece fabric.

“Well, then I guess your first gift isn’t as good then,” Kurt said with a fake pout.

“What’s my first gift?”

“Kurt got us matching Christmas socks,” Blaine supplied, holding up the two pairs as evidence.

“I can just put them over my onesie and then my feet will be extra warm.”

“I love that idea,” Kurt said plucking Ben’s pair from his father’s hands. He ripped the tags off with his teeth before holding them out to Ben.

“You ready for presents now?” Kurt asked once both of the Anderson boys had socked feet.

“Yup!” They both said, racing each other out to the living room, leaving Kurt in their dust.

Ben tore through his presents. He unwrapped toys, clothes, and new school supplies. After each gift he ran between the two men, excitedly hugging both Blaine and Kurt. By the time he was finished there was wrapping and tissue paper everywhere and Ben was wearing two hats on his head and had put his new pair of mittens on his feet. He wanted to wear them but needed his hands free for unwrapping.  

When Ben was settled, playing with one of his new action figures, Kurt and Blaine each had a few gifts to open too.

“Ha!  A 24 pack of socks, thanks, Kurt.”

“Thought you should have some neutral pairs. Can’t always be wearing socks with snowmen on them.”

“These are great, thank you.”

“Well, I have one more thing for you. Well 4, but they’re a package deal.”

“Kurt, you didn’t even have to get me the socks, or the sweater. It’s too much, really.”

“Blaine stop worrying, these didn’t cost anything. Here,” Kurt extended the package to him. The weight of it nearly dragged Blaine’s hand to the ground.

“What the?”

“Just open it!” Kurt was bracing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward with anticipation.

What Blaine had assumed was a box was actually four leather-bound books stacked one on top of the other. Two were navy blue and two were red. “Are these our yearbooks?”

“Uh huh!”

“How did you get these? Why did you get these?”

“Well, I didn’t know if you’d ever be able to get yours back. I know these aren’t signed or anything, but…”

“This is amazing, thank you. But how?”

“I just went to Dalton and McKinley and asked if they had a stock of leftover yearbooks. They have a whole closet full of them. I was even tempted to grab one from Mr. Schue’s senior year. He had the worst hair, it would have been excellent blackmail. I restrained myself though.”

“You’re incredible, Kurt.”

Kurt shrugged playfully, “I try,” he said before shooting up from the couch, “ok, time to get ready to head over to my dad’s. We usually go pretty formal, but don’t worry about it if you don’t have anything fancy. Ooh!” Kurt turned towards his pile of gifts and started sifting through the bags, “I’m going to wear the sweater that you and Ben got me, it’s perfect! Oh Blaine, you can borrow a sweater or button up if you want.”

“I’m good but thank you, I picked something up the other day.”

“Excellent. Ok, be ready in 30?”

“Sounds good.”

When Blaine walked back out into the living room 15 minutes later Kurt’s jaw dropped. Not only because he looked amazing in the cranberry suit he was wearing, but because he was wearing one of Kurt’s designs.

“Blaine, do you know who makes that suit?”

“It’s a _Kinn Five_ ,” he said as he adjusted his bowtie, which was covered with tiny Christmas trees. “I had so many _Kinn Five_ pieces in New York. They always fit me perfectly. I’ve never had to tailor a single piece, it’s like they’re made just for me.”

“Um, that’s because they basically are.”

“What?”

“Remember when you asked me what I did for work?”  

Blaine blanched. “No.”

“Yup,” Kurt’s hand moved almost involuntarily to the shoulder of Blaine’s suit jacket, swiping the non-existent dust from the fabric, as well as smoothing out the velvet.

“ _Kinn Five_?”

“Kurt and Finn, an obvious play on family. And Finn’s football number.”

“It’s perfect, Kurt. Everything about _Kinn Five_ is perfect. I saw this one the other day at a boutique while I was walking to my gig. It was a splurge but I had to have it! And you work from here? Ohio?”

“Headquarters is in New York, which was necessary if I was going to have any chance of becoming someone. But I work from home. Allows me to stay close to dad most of the time. And they fit you so perfectly because I really only ever made clothes for you and myself. Your proportions were basically hardwired into my brain.”

“This is so cool, Kurt. I am so, so proud of you.”

“Well I’m glad you like them so much, sorry you had to pay for this suit. Now that I know you’re such a fan I’ll start requesting for the samples to come in your size.”

“Damn, it’s like it’s Christmas or something.”

“Oh, you’re not even gonna try and say that it’s too much?”

“Eh, I’m learning to pick my battles. Plus, I really like your designs.”

“Of course you do, they’re _my_ designs.”

“The ever humble, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, ladies, and gentlemen.”

“You should call for Ben, let him bring whatever he’s playing with, but we should leave before they start calling and wondering where we are.” 

“I’ll go get him, you get the car warmed up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, Kurt!” Blaine added just as Kurt was turning to the door, “Merry Christmas!” He said, doing that excited little swivel hug that Kurt had always found so endearing.

“Merry Christmas, Blaine.”


End file.
